He’d found his passion, and it was in the auction house.
He directed the buggy horse into the barn and jumped down from the seat as his two younger brothers emerged from the back stalls.
“Managed to miss most of the work,” Samuel said, a smile playing across his lips. Samuel was the youngest of the boys. He’d inherited their mamm’s blond hair as well as her shape—short and stocky.
Justin was also short, though thin like Noah. He leaned against a bale of hay as Noah removed the harness from the buggy mare.
“How was Olivia Mae?”
“You sent me to a matchmaker? Really?”
Justin held up his hands in innocence, and Samuel began to laugh. “Can’t blame us for trying.”
“A matchmaker?”
“You’re the one who wanted to return the box. You could have left it at the office, and they would have mailed it to her.”
“I thought I was doing the neighborly thing. Instead I walked into a trap.”
“A trap?”
“Mamm probably put you up to it.”
“Now you’re being paranoid. Mamm didn’t even know about the box.”
“I’m surprised our community tolerates such.”
“Are you kidding? Olivia Mae has been a real asset around here. No fewer than six marriages in the last year are a direct result of her—”
“Meddling?”
“Encouragement.”
“Well, I’m not interested.”
“Told you that’s what he’d say.” Samuel nudged Justin and held out his hand. “Pay up.”
Grudgingly Justin pulled out his wallet and slipped a five-dollar bill into his brother’s hand.
“Seriously? You’re betting on my social life?”
Samuel laughed again as he pocketed the money, walked out of the barn and headed across the field toward his own family. Noah finished unharnessing the mare and set her out to pasture as Justin watched.
“Actually we’re betting on the absence of your social life,” he finally said. “Which isn’t quite the same thing.”
“So you admit that’s why you sent me over there?”
“No. Not at first. Samuel didn’t know when you asked him to bid on the box that it was Olivia Mae’s.”
“This wasn’t a setup from the get-go?”
“We don’t have the time or energy to be that manipulative. I was standing in the back watching—it being your first auction and all. You did well, by the way.”
Noah rolled his eyes and tried not to be distracted by the praise.
“When we realized who the box belonged to, we figured it couldn’t hurt for you to meet her.”
“So it was more of a coincidence than a setup.”
“We just saw it as an opportunity.”
Noah grunted.
“But it couldn’t hurt to talk to the woman.”
“I did. She thanked me for the box, pried into my recent history, and then had to go because of some emergency in the house.”
Justin took off his hat and scratched the top of his head. “You know Mamm and Dat worry.”
“Because I’m not married?”
“Because you’re not the least bit interested in getting married.”
“Why should they worry about that?”
“They don’t want you to be alone in your old age.”
“I have the six of you, plus your wives and children to keep me company. Not to mention Mamm and Dat are in excellent health.”
“It’s not the same as having your own family.”
“Says who? You? You’ve been married what...six months?”
“Never been happier.”
“And I’m glad for you.”
Justin let that comment slide, but as they walked out of the barn and toward the house he said, “You sound kind of crabby.”
“Do I?”
“Maybe she got under your skin.”
“Maybe you should mind your own business.” The words came out crankier than he’d intended. Noah softened them by shoving his bruder and taking off toward the house. And suddenly it was like they were ten years old again and racing for the first hot biscuit.
They tumbled into the house, both laughing, and Noah wondered why his knee had begun to twinge after a short sprint. He was trying to rub it inconspicuously when he glanced up and saw Sarah walk into Justin’s arms. He kissed her once and touched her stomach, then they both laughed. They might have only married six months ago, but they’d wasted no time in starting a family.
Noah was honest enough to admit the twinge of envy he felt. It was normal he supposed, not that it changed anything. Olivia Mae might believe in true love. His bruders might think he’d be better off married, and his parents might think of him as the last baby to be pushed from the nest, but Noah didn’t see it that way.
He planned to establish himself as a good auctioneer.
Maybe he’d buy a small farm after that, something with a barn and a horse pasture—there was certainly no need for fields to cultivate.
He’d settle down all right, but on his own terms.
He understood what his future held, what kind of man he was. He’d be a dependable brother, an excellent uncle, even a good son. He had it in him to be a successful auctioneer. But a husband? Nein. That wasn’t in his future, and he had the dating history to prove it. Something he didn’t plan to share with Olivia Mae.
Chapter Two
Sunday morning dawned cloudy but warm. It seemed to Olivia Mae that Daddi’s moods reflected the changing weather. As a farmer, rain had always been a good thing—a sign of God’s blessing. Daddi sat at the kitchen table, a smile on his face, shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth as if they were the best thing he’d ever tasted.
“Maybe I’ll have a chance to meet that nice young man who visited the other day.” Mammi refilled their coffee mugs and sat down across from Olivia Mae.
“Nice young man?”
“You know very well who I mean.”
“We have a new postman.”
“Nein. Young Amish man.”
“Our neighbors dropped by with their new baby.”
“Olivia Mae, you know gut and well who I mean, though you’ve avoided talking about him all week.” Mammi pointed a fork at Olivia Mae as if in warning, but there was a smile on her face.
“Hmmm. Oh, you mean Noah Graber?”
“Indeed. He seemed like a fine young man.”
“How could you tell? You didn’t meet him.”
“Because you didn’t invite him in.”
“He was just returning something he’d found. There was no need to invite him in, plus I think he was in a hurry.”
“Well, he won’t be in a hurry today, and I have a mind to speak with him.”
“Oh, please don’t do that.” Olivia Mae fumbled around for a reason. In truth she simply didn’t want her grandmother to attempt setting up a date for her again. The last one had been a disaster. The man had been nearly fifty. She certainly didn’t get her matchmaking skills from her grandmother. Thank goodness! In desperation she added, “He’s rather the shy sort. I was thinking of maybe setting up something between him and Jane Bontrager.”
“Why are you always matchmaking other folks together, but no one seems to catch your interest?”
Olivia Mae wasn’t too surprised at the question. It was something Mammi tossed at her at least once a week.
“I have my hands full with you and Daddi. I have a family of my own. I don’t need another.”
“Pshaw.” Mammi plucked a hot biscuit from the basket and broke it open with trembling fingers. The steam rose, and she inhaled deeply before adding a pat of butter. “You know what the Good Book says about taking a log out of your own eye before you worry about your bruder’s.”
“My bruders ar
e doing just fine, but danki for your concern.”
She thought her grandmother would continue to bat the topic back and forth, but instead, when she looked up, confusion clouded her features. “Elizabeth, I’ve told you before. It’s past time you marry, and I don’t think you should put it off. There are plenty of gut boys available.”
Olivia Mae closed her eyes briefly, said a quick prayer for wisdom and forced a smile. “Yes, Mammi. I’ll give that some thought.”
“And prayer. Don’t forget prayer, young lady.”
Olivia Mae hopped up to clean the dishes so they could leave for church on time. But as she washed and rinsed, she wasn’t thinking about the service, she was thinking about Mammi calling her by her mother’s name. Olivia Mae didn’t even look like her mother—she took after her father. Both of her parents had perished in an accident ten years ago and she missed them as sorely as if it had happened the week before.
Daddi’s dementia was a terrible thing to watch, but it was Mammi’s slips into the past that frightened her more. She couldn’t possibly care for her grandfather and grandmother by herself, not to mention that the house was starting to show signs of neglect. She would ask for help if she needed it. Of course she would, but she knew what her bruders’ answer would be—they had wanted to move Mammi and Daddi to Maine years ago.
She couldn’t imagine taking them away from what was familiar. As far as the house, she could ask the bishop for help and a work crew would be there the following week, but she hesitated to do that, too. Her church family had already done so much to help when Daddi was in the hospital last month. She knew they didn’t mind, but she didn’t want to be the type of person who only asked for help but never gave.
So she bought old sweaters at garage sales, unraveled and washed the yarn and used it for her knitting. She was able to scatter the shawls and sweaters and blankets throughout their community. That and matchmaking were the only ways she knew to give back.
And she prayed, but not for a beau. That would only complicate things. Who would want to take on a twenty-seven-year-old wife, a small farm, a dwindling herd of sheep that she thought of as pets, and tottering grandparents? It seemed too much to ask, in her opinion. Best that she keep her problems to herself and bury her own dreams. Sometimes life called on you to sacrifice.
Mammi and Daddi were definitely worth sacrificing for.
* * *
Olivia Mae didn’t involve herself in someone else’s life unless they asked. But during their church service Sunday morning, she couldn’t help watching Noah Graber and Jane Bontrager. They sat as far from each other as possible. Noah was on the men’s side of the aisle, closer to the front. Jane was near the back, helping with her nieces. Noah didn’t seem aware of Jane at all, which wasn’t unusual in Olivia Mae’s experience. It was one of the reasons that older men remained bachelors. They weren’t even looking for love.
What was it that Noah had said?
I’m single—happily single.
He wouldn’t be the first man to think so.
Their opening hymn had ended and the ministers had filed into the barn. The doors were open wide, allowing in the fresh spring air, but rain threatened so they’d opted to have the church service under cover. Now they all stood for the Oblied, and for a moment Olivia Mae forgot about Noah and Jane and even her grandparents. She allowed the words of the praise song to flow over her, to rise from her heart. She felt, in those few moments, transported to a place without difficult days and hard decisions. She felt like the young girl who had written the letters to herself, the letters that were in the box Noah had brought to her.
She’d tried to read them. The evening he’d given her the box, she’d waited until she’d settled down for the night and then she’d once again unfolded the top sheet. She’d instantly been transported back to the summer of her seventeenth year, when her dreams were still fresh and hopeful. Each sheet contained a letter to herself that she’d penned quite seriously over the course of the summer. Where had she come up with that idea?
But the words she’d written seemed to come from a different person. The naiveté of her thoughts and hopes and dreams was too painful.
So she’d folded the letter back up, and had gently placed the box on top of her dresser, then flung her kapp over it so she wouldn’t have to stare at it.
She tried to focus on the sermons. The first was something about Joshua and Moses and the lost Israelites. Standing between her grandmother and her neighbor, Olivia Mae prayed, sang, kneeled and stood. She felt as if she was going through the motions, but the ritual soothed her nonetheless. After all, Gotte was in control last week, and he was still in control.
Even though Daddi’s condition seemed to be worse...
Even though Mammi grew more unpredictable each day...
Bishop Lucas stood and startled Olivia Mae out of her daydreams. He’d been their bishop for over six months now, but still she was surprised that it wasn’t Atlee who offered their blessing over the meal, who sent them out to be the people of Gotte, as he was so fond of saying. She was sure that Lucas would make a fine bishop, though he seemed awfully young at fifty-two. The truth was that in her heart she missed Atlee. He’d been like a wise old onkel to her. He’d been someone that she could be completely honest with.
Another hymn, and then they were dismissed and she was hurrying to check on Daddi, who insisted he was fine. Several of the men told her not to worry, they would take care of her grandfather.
Mammi was already standing behind the serving line when she joined it. She reached out and touched Olivia Mae’s arm, and a flash of understanding passed between them. Being away from the farm was good, but being in public was always nerve-racking. There was just no telling what Daddi would do.
Her mammi’s look reminded her that they were among friends, among family. She could stop worrying, at least for a few hours.
So Olivia Mae made her way down the line to the table with the main dishes—cold crispy chicken, thick slices of ham, spicy links of sausage. First the elders came through, then the women with the little ones, followed closely by the men. Finally the youngies, who filled their plates high, never worrying about calories or fat content. The last group was what Olivia Mae thought of as her people—Amish men and women in their twenties, some recently married and without children, some courting and some who seemed caught in that in-between place.
Jane stepped up with Francine. The two girls were barely twenty and stuck together like peanut butter and honey, which sometimes complicated her matchmaking efforts.
“Gudemariye, Olivia Mae.” Jane smiled at her brightly—expectantly.
“And to you.”
Francine leaned forward. “We heard you were setting up a match for Noah Graber.”
“Nein. Noah’s not interested.” Olivia Mae pushed a plate of sandwiches forward, trying to buy herself some time. “I would like to talk to you, though, if you have a minute.”
“We’ll save you a place.” Their heads together and giggling, both Jane and Francine moved toward the dessert table.
She’d thought nearly everyone was through the line the first time, and was looking to make sure that Mammi had made herself a plate, when Noah stepped in front of her table.
“I heard the fried chicken is gut today.”
“Did you, now?”
His hat was pushed back on his head, once again revealing the curly hair, and he was actually making eye contact with her. No doubt he felt safer with the table between them—she wasn’t going to jump over it and drag him toward a woman he might feel pressured to court. She couldn’t help noticing he was in a better mood, as well. Perhaps because he wasn’t on her front porch. Men like Noah relaxed on what they thought of as neutral ground. She’d have to suggest he take Jane to a restaurant in town. A family dinner would be too much pressure.
“Too bad there’s not any chicken left.”
<
br /> “I gather you’d like some.”
“It’s why I’m standing here with no meat on my plate—my bruders insisted that I had to try it.”
“Smart guys, your bruders.” Olivia Mae opened the cooler under the table, pulled out her large Tupperware container and scooted it toward him. “I always make extra.”
The grin he gave her caused butterflies to twirl in her stomach. Yes, this one could be a charmer. She only needed someone who was willing to push past his disinterested facade, smooth the rough edges and convince him that he wasn’t happily single.
He thanked her for the chicken and moved toward the dessert table. Tall and handsome. There was no way she was letting Noah Graber get away from their community. His family was here. He belonged here! He probably faced a contented future with a house full of children.
No woman can be happy with fewer than seven to cook for.
The old proverb danced through her mind. She didn’t completely agree with it. After all, she was happy right now. But then, that was a different story. She didn’t abide gender stereotypes, but she did believe that men were happier with families. Hadn’t she read an article in the grocery checkout line about that very thing? Something about men living five years longer if they were married, and up to seven if they had children.
When she thought of it in those terms, she wasn’t prying her way into Noah’s life, she was looking out for his health. Isn’t that what the people of Gotte were supposed to do?
She plopped a crispy chicken leg onto her plate, added a scoop of macaroni salad and a slice of cheese and chose a chocolate brownie for dessert. She was going to need the calories if she was going to be successful today. They might rest from their daily work on Sundays, but matchmaking was a seven-day-a-week affair.
She made her way to where Jane and Francine were sitting and enjoying their meal.
“Uh-oh. She has that glint in her eye.” Francine bumped Jane’s shoulder. “And I think it’s your turn.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I had a date two weeks ago, and you haven’t had one in...I don’t know—a month.”
A Perfect Amish Match (Indiana Amish Brides Book 3) Page 2